Intermezzo
by JudyL068
Summary: Blair gets a package


**Intermezzo**

By JudyL

February 5, 2004

All right, I told myself I'd never do this to either of the guys, but well… It all came to me in a dream and wrote itself very quickly. Takes place after TSbyBS.

* * *

><p>Blair whistled as he juggled the package and his backpack so that he could fish out his keys and open the door. He didn't recognized the return address, somewhere in Italy, but the size, shape and weight of the box seemed familiar.<p>

Naomi probably sent it. He grinned pushing the door open. Blair dropped his pack on the floor and nudged the door shut. The couch beckoned. He rested the box on his knees while he carefully sliced the paper wrapping with his Swiss army knife.

The box underneath made him pause. Blair ran a gentle hand across the finely polished wood of the case. Shaking his head in denial he flipped the catch and inhaled raggedly. An envelope lay on top of the fine old instrument with his name beautifully scripted across the front.

"No," Blair whispered as the past came flooding back.

Jim heard the sound from several blocks away. He frowned wondering why he'd stretched his hearing out so far, then grinned as he realized he'd been checking to see if Blair was home.

It had been a trying few weeks since his partner's press conference, but they'd finally worked everything out between them. The Sentinel and Guide were firmly committed, their friendship solid. Jim was just waiting for Sandburg to decide what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

The Sentinel frowned again because the hauntingly beautiful sound appeared to be coming from the loft_. I've never heard that CD before. Didn't know the kid liked violin music._ For that was what he heard, the violin portion of a piece of music that he couldn't quite name.

Jim flinched as the music gave way to a high pitched discord that sounded as if someone had run over a cat. Heart broken sobs reached his ears just as he pulled into the parking place and stopped the truck.

Ellison raced up the stairs, not taking the time to wait for the elevator. He would know that voice anywhere.

Jim threw open the door to the loft. "Blair?" he called anxiously.

He could just make out the dark curls over the back of the sofa. Blair sat on the floor in the living room his knees pulled up to his chest. A violin lay on the floor beside him along with a partially crumpled letter.

"Chief?" Jim asked taking a seat on the couch just to the right of Blair. "What's wrong?"

Blair sniffled and shook his head without raising it. "I… really thought… my life had hit an all time low… with the press con… conference, Jim…" he stammered softly trying to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry, Blair…" Jim started feeling the guilt he thought they had worked through raise it's ugly head.

Sandburg's head jerked up and he turned swiftly to look at Jim. "No! It's not… we're past that, Jim, this has nothing to do with us, at least not about that." Blair hung his head letting his forehead rest against Jim's knee.

Jim placed his hand on the back of Blair's head. "Please tell me, Chief. I want to help."

Blair looked up again, his face red and streaky from the tears. Jim winced internally at the sadness he saw there. It was similar to the sadness that he'd seen in his brother's eyes after the press conference. A sadness he'd hoped to never see again.

"Blair?" Jim pleaded.

His brother nodded and twisted back to grab the paper off the floor. Blair smoothed it absently before he handed it to Jim.

Jim read the letter his eyes growing larger with each line. "My God, Chief," he exhaled when he finished. Jim looked into Blair's haunted eyes. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Blair closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He'd thought that part of his life was over, dead and buried over fifteen years ago. He truly hadn't given it much more than a passing thought for the last four years, since he'd found Jim. Now the memories came flooding back, along with the possibilities of what might have been.

* * *

><p><strong>Fall 1982<strong>

**Paris France**

"Come on, Blair," Naomi Sandburg called from the bottom of the stairs. "We're going to be late for your rehearsal. You know how Monsieur Renalt gets."

"I'm coming Mom," thirteen year-old Blair called grabbing his violin case and pounding down the stairs.

Naomi grinned at her son as he slid to a stop in front of her. His hair needed to be trimmed again. _That boy's hair grows faster than weeds on plant food. I swear_. She licked her finger and tried to smooth one of the errant locks back into place.

"Eww! Mom! That's gross!" Blair proclaimed backing away. "I thought you said we were late?" he demanded.

She shook her head fondly and motioned for him to head out to the car. Lately Blair had been pulling away from her just a bit, the way any normal teen-ager would. But it never lasted. Blair was too in tune with other people's feelings, her own especially, to cause long term strife between them.

Blair's fingers tapped the case in his lap and he hummed the part he would be playing at the rehearsal. Naomi's proud smile went unnoticed by the teen who stared out the window. She had reason to be proud of him. He was intelligent, some of his teachers even claimed Blair was a genius. He was beautiful, although Blair cringed when she told him that. Boys were handsome, not beautiful. And he was talented.

Blair had fallen in love with the violin when he was only five years old. They'd been making their way through old Romania and ended up with a camp of gypsies. It seemed pretty cliché to Naomi at the time, but the camp had taken them in that spring. One of the men had an old violin that he played every night. The music had enthralled the young boy.

By the time they'd left the gypsy tribe, Blair could play dozens of songs note perfect.

At every new location, Naomi, unable to resist Blair's pleading, found a teacher for him and his repertoire grew, as did his skill. Two years ago, Monsieur Renalt had been that teacher and he had recognized Blair's genius. Since then they'd traveled Europe playing various venues.

Little Blair Sandburg was a sensation.

* * *

><p>They reached the opera house where the orchestra rehearsed and Blair raced inside without waiting for Naomi. She sighed fondly and followed at a more sedate pace.<p>

Blair was already on stage and warming up when she found a seat. There were a number of others in the audience today. _Must be some of Monsieur Renalt's students._ About half a dozen children of various ages sat in the first row.

Renalt climbed the stairs to the stage and tapped his baton on the podium. "All right now," he chided his accent heavily French. "Let us begin. From the top."

Naomi watched awed as always. The music was amazing, but the dedication these people put into it took her breath away. She could see the intense concentration on her son's face as they approached his solo piece, but once he reached it Blair seemed almost at peace with the music. Joy shone from his face as he communed with the violin.

Renalt's face expressed his pleasure at Blair's performance as he switched his attention back to the rest of the players. Blair joined the other violins for the rest of the piece and was flushed with excitement when Renalt directed the last chord.

Everyone put down their instruments. They stretched fingers, hands, arms and backs as they grinned and talked animatedly amongst themselves. Renalt allowed them to do so for a few seconds then tapped his baton for attention.

"Very nice, people. I think we are just about ready for our performance. Take five, I'd like to go back over the second stanza where the cellos pick up the melody." He nodded at them and went back to studying the score.

Blair said something to the man beside him, causing the man to grin, then he bounced over to the edge of the stage and sat with his legs dangling over.

Naomi moved from her seat and patted Blair on the leg. "It sounded wonderful Blair."

"Thanks," he said with a grin.

"Oh, it was more than wonderful," a young voice said. A young lady of maybe fifteen had joined them, one of the students in the front row. "It was… transcendent," she replied with a dreamy look in her face. "I wish I could play like that."

Blair and Naomi grinned although for different reasons. Naomi saw the interest in her son's eyes. He had only just begun to be fascinated with the opposite sex. And this girl was very pretty.

"Oh, I'm sure you play wonderfully," Blair assured her, "otherwise Ren wouldn't be teaching you." He smiled at the girl, a smile that would eventually be known all through Cascade. "My name is Blair," he said sticking his hand out.

She shook his hand shyly. "I'm Amy. And thank you, but the only reason Monsieur Renalt took me as a student is because my father could afford the best," she said shrugging.

"Not entirely true, Miss Pointer," Renalt said joining them. "While it is true that I am the best," he winked at Blair, "it is also true that you have some talent. I do not waste my time with students who have no business looking at a violin, Miss Pointer."

Blair grinned at Amy. "See?"

She grinned back.

"But," Renalt continued, "it never hurts to have more practice. Perhaps I could persuade young Monsieur Sandburg to tutor you?"

"Oh, would you?" Amy asked. "You handle the violin so well."

Blair raised his eyebrows. He'd never tutored anyone before, but it couldn't be that hard. "Sure. I'd like that." Besides, he'd enjoy spending time with Amy.

* * *

><p><strong>Several months later<strong>

"Blair," Monsieur Renalt said in his best fatherly tone. "I must warn you, do not let things get out of hand with Miss Pointer."

"Ren, it was just a kiss. You don't have to get all bent out of shape about it."

Renalt sighed. _Teen-agers._ "I just want you two to be careful. At your age it's very exciting to be in love," he held up his hand to silence Blair's protest, "but things have a way of moving very fast. I do not want to see either of you get hurt."

"I know all about the birds and the bees, Ren," Blair said sarcastically, then he slumped a bit in his seat. "Besides she's almost two years older than me. I doubt she'd be interested."

Renalt hid a grin. _You might be surprised, my young friend_. "Never-the-less, I'm asking you to use those brains you have hiding under all those curls and think before things go too far." He tipped Blair's chin up to meet his eyes. "Understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Then I will say no more."

* * *

><p><strong>Four months later<strong>

"Daddy! No!" Amy screamed as her father grabbed Blair by the collar and shoved him up against the wall.

"Little bastard! You don't even deserve to breath the same air as Amy!" he slammed Blair against the wall again, Blair clawed at the man's hands and tried to blink away the darkness that threatened as his head made contact again.

"I'll make sure you never touch another girl again, you son of a bitch!" Mr. Pointer removed one hand from Blair's collar and punched him in the stomach and then in the face. Blair tried to speak but the hand around his throat just tightened in response.

"Sorry little…" the rest of his words were lost to Blair as the darkness took over.

* * *

><p>Jim forced himself to remain calm as Blair quietly described the beating he'd taken from Pointer. All he wanted to do was hunt the man down and give him a taste of his own medicine. Of course, now that was impossible.<p>

"I woke up in the hospital three days later," Blair said massaging his left hand unconsciously. He raised it briefly. "My hand was in a cast, evidently he'd stepped on it after I lost consciousness. I couldn't hear out of my right ear and my eyesight was also affected from the head injury." Blair looked up at Jim's groan. A small smile touched one corner of his mouth.

"It's all right, Jim. It was a long time ago. Eventually my hearing came back and my eyesight improved, although I still need glasses, as you know. My hand healed as well, he didn't do any permanent damage… but I couldn't bring myself to play again. By the time my hand was better, we'd moved back to the states and I found other interests. I just needed to put Amy and everything behind me. I had no idea…"

Blair broke off his eyes falling on the letter.

"What ever you want to do, Blair. You know I'm here for you," Jim leaned forward and grasped his brother's shoulder.

Blair nodded numbly. "I just can't believe it. Why didn't she tell me?" He raised wounded eyes to his partner. "Why?"

Jim shook his head. "I don't think she had the chance, Blair. At least, not until now. I would have believed her father, especially after what he did to you."

Blair nodded and stood. "I need a drink, can I get you anything?"

"A beer would be great." Jim watched Blair shuffle to the kitchen and turned his attention to the letter in his hand.

* * *

><p>My dearest Blair,<p>

Forgive me for not writing sooner. My father passed away a few weeks ago and I just got up the courage to send this. There is so much I have to tell you.

First, I am so sorry for what my father did. He had no right. What happened between you and me was pure. Love at its most innocent. He took that and twisted it into something ugly then took away the only comfort I had left.

I was pregnant, Blair. I don't know if you ever realized that. My father found out before I could tell you, although looking back I'm not really sure what we would have done. I did love you Blair, as I'm sure you loved me, but we were kids and I doubt it would have lasted. Still…

I had a beautiful son. My father insisted that I go through the pregnancy. I think he thought it would be a fitting punishment, but it was nothing but joy for me.

I named him Joseph, after you, but I think the adoption agency changed his name. My father let me see him one time before he took our baby boy away.

He threatened to find you and kill you if I ever tried to contact you, Blair. I believed him. He would have killed you that day if Monsieur Renalt hadn't come in.

I tracked you down after he died. It wasn't too difficult as your name was all over the news. I hope you have found happiness in your life as I was able to.

You may recognize this case and violin. They are yours. Monsieur Renalt gave them to me after Naomi took you away. I thought it was time to return them to you, to return the music to your life if it has been missing. I never meant for you to be hurt, Blair. And I hate that this letter has probably hurt you more, but I felt you had the right to know.

I've enclosed what little information I was able to dig up about our son. He's almost a man now and may be looking for his natural parents. I have a family of my own now, but I thought you might want to meet him.

Please take care of yourself Blair. And if you see our son, tell him I love him.

Yours truly,

Amy.

_Finis?_

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><p>Intermezzo - musical term meaning a short movement or interlude connecting the main parts of the composition. (I thought that fit quite well)<p>

Please let me know what you think.


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